Wishes in the Night – The Beloved (Audio)

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The night sounds rise and fall around me

As stars emerge from the deep black well

Fireflies dance on the edge of vision

As dusk gives way to the night

Coolness settles upon the land

Stillness settles upon my heart

Tiny pinpricks of light appear

Delicate, peeping through the black curtain

Now soft pearl glow cast across the silence

Each moment brings the detail into focus

So too my heart’s desire becomes clear

Defined against the backdrop of my soul’s quietude

My wish is for you

And my wish for you is me

That you might be filled with me as the emptiness of space

Is filled with glorious light

That I might be to you the peace

Which settles over the night calling nature to rest

A night with no bumps in the dark.

No fear of exposure

No longer watchful

Only rest and blissful surrender

And if I may not have this wish then my next would be

That you may see yourself through my eyes

Then you would not need my light to fill your night

You would know the power in your form, the elegance in your movement

You would know your beauty as a gift and light to this dark and troubled world

You are most desirable in all things

And from that place of confident rest your striving would cease

You would become a source of grace and hope

And would lift up all whom you touch

If I might be granted even my second wish

I would know that my life has had a meaning

For I have recognized the sublime among the ordinary

To have held such to my breast is to have lived

The Kingdom of Both – The Red Book

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Image result for pathway razors edge

Two countries I knew
Two roads I walked
Both were exquisite and fine like the edge of a razor. Exquisite was the joy. Exquisite was the pain
Both flayed me, opened my soul to heights and to depths for which there are no words
One was ruled by the Sun
One was ruled by the Moon
One was filled with light, and joy, and the thrill of growing things
It is hard to breathe there, the air is thin and the light hurts your eyes
One was dark with a sweet, saturating, sadness heavy as the earth
It’s hard to breathe there under that weight, in the stillness, in the dark
One Kingdom promised the answer to dreams and desires of the heart
One Kingdom answered the dread of my deepest fears

Back and forth, back and forth, long I journeyed the bi-polar pathway
As high as I soared, even touching the sun, that far I fell, down, down, down
Longing’s ache, movement, hope’s teasing tug pulled me into the glorious fire, my wax melted and I fell
Great was the fall, epic was the ruin, dry, dusty, darkness, solitude, empty hollow ache
Long I lay there, time’s ticking warped, stretched into intervals that only the shifting Earth can reckon
As the mountains grew and continents shifted, dust settled over me, nothing grew but the rocks
Only silence and solitude and stillness were my companions, grief my nourishment
Then something stirred in me, a movement, an energy, a foreign force that frightened yet awakened me
I rose from the dark earth and made my way into the place between places, that space between light and dark
A region rarely traversed. The powerful pull of the poles seeking to claim me for the left or the right, the good or the bad, for gods or the devils
But I refused, something had changed, I rebelled against them both and was reborn on the utterance of the word No
Neither was my mortal home, neither was the land of my true habitation

The new way was neither/nor, but Both at once
The path, at first unstable, unfathomable, impossible like a drunk man on a tightrope
I learned to let go my clinging, my addiction to knowing, to allow the currents of emotion to wash over me
Stillness, the only way to move in that place between the paradox
And as I surrendered movement I was moved by forces larger than I, changed and rearranged
My pattern resonating with that which has called to me from forever
The lie of the either/or is tenacious and It’s powerful spell can only be starved slowly, never broken
The black sorcery practiced by the ancients continues still, hidden in view
The promise, the lure of distraction, life lived falsely, divided, unaware, asleep on the square, a bird in a cage
The Kingdom of Both is among us, can you not perceive it? Awaken to reality’s dream
Come walk with me here. I need a companion. We need companions to help us balance along the razors edge
Come and lay down your striving, lose all, and find everything here in the Kingdom of Both

What if the World is Flat – Flags and Fags and Pants that Sag

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What if the World is flat after all

What would that mean

Would it alter my steps

Would it change the axis around which I spin

They say it is a spinning sphere

Hung like a blue marble in black space

But They say lots of things and it changes like the wind blowing this way and that

They used to say it was flat

Pluto used to be a planet too

Then it was not, now who knows

Can someone remind me if eggs are still bad for you

Is it Global Warming or Global Cooling or just Change now

It is hard to keep up between seasons of American Idol and Netflix marathons

It is hard work whoring myself for the next newest shiny thing They say I must have to be complete

I need to turn on the programming written for my particular demographic to get my bearings

Let’s see . . . what trifle shall I mediate on today

Whose direction will fill my thoughts and be parroted with borrowed words

Am I against Christians or Gay people, Black or White Devils or the manipulated Mexicans brought in to fill a growing gap

Do I care more about puppies than baby parts

Will I kill you over an idea that you are an idea, a label not a soul

Existential unnamed rage projected onto the stereotypes injected into my mind

Or will today be a time to remember that I forgot to feel terrorized

By the ones They have created, pissed on and off, and financed

Cause if I am angry about flags and fags or pants that sag I won’t consider

It will never enter my mind that perhaps I am asleep dreaming I am awake in this hall of mirrors

A prison of half-truth and misdirection, held captive by the cage created in my mind

Fighting for the crumbs from Master’s table that I have built and even now sustain

Righteous anger aimed amiss is an impotent thing and is no threat to Them

It only tightens the noose and the more I struggle the less I can breathe

That is why it was said to turn the other cheek.  It dissipates Their power

They feed off the struggle of the pawns and the knights, the bishops and the royal court who think they are players

But no, they are being played, both king and pawn.

The game is played above their heads with pillars and ladders to heaven

Whether one travels a space at a time or the length of the board it is still on the square, boundaries defined by the Makers of the game

Rules and moves defined, determined by demographic, groups magically manipulated by the illusion of averages and statistics

Groups cannot think, only individual souls might consider that there may be better questions that would reveal the real play

A soul might pause and wonder why is it that they ask Them for permission to marry in the first place or why it is we seek a right that we already posses

A soul may ask how it is that we have surrendered our authority to smiling sorcerers and devils that claim to own this world and us through Divine Right

Birthright traded for a bowl of beans, distraction of their fertility rituals, and conjured safety

For They promise security and solutions from threats and problems They created

They break my legs and I gratefully accept the crutches They provide from my labor

And I will continue to eat the poisoned food and water They make available then come flaccid and fat and weak, hat in hand begging my Masters for Healthcare

I will not give a moment’s thought to Their mass genocide, drug trade, trafficking in children for sex, starvation of tens of thousands because it is convenient, expedient for Them

No, but I will fight for my right to remain a slave to the business of the MON EYE god they serve, stay discontent in my little cube as they offer me up as a sacrifice to the Lord of the Rings

It is all business, nothing personal, I am a number, a member of a group and have grown accustomed to my bondage

My chains may be of iron or gold yet chains they remain

And I will be on guard to protect my status

It is what I have traded for my empty, grasping, and envious soul

I have become my own prison guard policing myself and others ever watchful for the code words that signal a breach in the walls of my demographic

Cracker, Nigger, Faggot, they change through the years and the current context of culture

They are a function not a person, but if I am a statistic what do I know of spells and incantations spoken over me from my birth

Flags and Fags and pants that Sag are the current code words which illicit the predictable preprogrammed patterned response

I will watch as they change business models based on trends and temperament of the slaves

Socialism, Capitalism, Fascism, Communism, are all isms and ocracys and any will serve them at need

It is all the same game to them and they need good ignorant slaves whatever They call them or the system dejure

Even if one wants to be a “good” Master, they still want to be Master

But, what if the world is flat after all

What would that mean

Would it alter my steps

I think not.  They come one yard at the time either way

I encounter one soul at the time too.  I have never met an average or a median or mean

Men and women and boys and girls given rights by their Creator

Given seeds and water and earth and resources for life in love and grace, not walking death and slavery

Real change happens in the heart and the mind as we awaken and shake off the webs they weave

They can only do what we allow, it is all a head game played by our leave

No is the most powerful word

There is no need to fight anything but the fear and the addiction to what does not satisfy anyway

 

P.S. It is interesting that the UN uses a Flat Earth map.  What’s up with that?

P.S.S.  They said it was flat, then a ball, but now use a flat map, I wonder what people will do when They tell them that the Aliens are here to save us and it is important to submit to trans-human implants?

P.S.S.S.  It all sounds crazy when it is first said.  It always has because it’s different.  It sounded crazy when they told you not to shit your pants anymore too.  Your world was shaken but you learned to handle your shit differently.

P.S.S.S.S.  The funny and sad part is that some folks will take more issue with the map and alien stuff than the slavery they are living.

P.S.S.S.S.S.  Just remember that if there is fear and a promise of safety They generated the fear and built the pens for everybody to run into.  That is the real game.

P.S.S.S.S.S.S.  Perfect love casts out fear – Love, Your Creator

🙂 Be Groovy!

Ambivalence (Audio)

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I have found that most of what I write is an attempt to be descriptive of some process at work in me.  And then if I go back and look at it I find that many times it was in some ways prophetic in terms of where I needed to go next.  Or perhaps it is that this student is slow and can only take what I need in small doses and must return again and again until the lesson is finally learned.

When I wrote this piece some years ago there was a stubborn anger and a blind faith that refused to move from where I was.  It was during the beginning of the rebirth of me or at least of my awareness of the process.  Today it is less desperate anger and more a statement of faith that somehow living in the paradox is the path for me.  That in deep places I already know and am slowly developing a new language to contain the sights of the undiscovered territories of my Soul.  In the end I wonder if the idea of “choice” is a bit overrated.  Especially if the conscious options keep one blinded to that which is hidden within view.

Am I terribly weak, or terribly strong?

I am pulled between forces stronger than the earth.

Yet I am not utterly destroyed.

I may yet lose my mind or I may find it.

I am ambivalent yet I choose.

I choose ambivalence.

I wait.

I will not choose out of fear of loss.

I do not fear loss.

I fear being lost.

And the man is lost.  His fears have come upon him.

Who is he?  Where will he go?

What will he do?  What does he want?

He knows.  He waits.

He is seeking the answer to the un-thought known.

The Gift

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Day Six: Today’s Prompt: Who’s the most interesting person (or people) you’ve met this year?

When I read this prompt I was not excited.  Not because I have not met interesting, meaningful people this year but because I have.  And I have already put that energy into a piece I called the Gift.  It is about a beautiful soul who I have met across time and space but she is a part of my existence now.  There are others who have also become a part of me and I so look forward to reading their work and interacting with them, but she was the first.  She is brilliant in her ability to notice things and people who are often overlooked.  Her genius is in what she notices and what she does with it.  She is open to those who are different from her and she gives them grace.  She is ever trying to learn and grow, a woman of courage. She is dedicated to those whom she loves and is fierce on their behalf.  I love her writing.  I could not do what she does, ever.  It is like good bread and the fragrance of fresh cut grass, nourishing for body and soul.  Thank you Calensariel for noticing.  And thank you for opening the door for me and introducing me to some of the coolest smartest people I have ever known.  She is somebody worth spending your time with.  You will have missed a treasure in your life if you don’t stop in and chat with her.  Be Groovy!

The poem that follows is my attempt to give her a small token for a debt much too large to repay.  The Gift.

... are during the first week of december so our gift finding and gift

The gift was not in Her doing but in being, Herself

I was desolate

Lying still among the debris

In desperation I wrote, seeking

Needing some response, some touch, some signal from the universe

All was void

Perishing for lack of me

Her genius, Her magic lies in her attention, what she sees

Dying ember

Her heart noticed

A bruised reed She would not break

A smoldering wick She would not snuff out

She saw beauty in the brokenness and as a child would She clapped for joy

She did not attempt to brace up the reed or give it instruction

She found wonder in the ember as it was

And as she clapped her hands it fanned a fire

Her mere interest helped the reed straighten it’s Self

Her gift was not in the doing

It was in the being of Herself

And in the recognition of the beauty found in ashes

She is my hero